» [ ❁ཻུ۪۪ ʄƖơῳɛཞ ცơყ ; episode fourteen ] «
-ˋˏ ༻ village escapade ༺ ˎˊ-
"There aren't any books on astronomy," y/n said quietly, alerting the
flower boy of her arrival, "I already scoured the place."Han-sung turned,
slowly, his eyes meeting her own lively pair. He gave a small smile before
it disappeared along with his gaze.
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.⋆˚ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊☯︎» [ author-nim ] «
All of Hwarang was in a lively bustle of mind. The uniformed hanboks were discarded with such eagerness as each boy dressed in their casual—yet lavishly decorated—attire to parade the streets of the capital on their granted day off.
Han-sung, clad in his teal hanbok and long flowing brunette hair let out, waltzed among the grounds with Yeo-wool as company, both in search of the south exit. He kept his gaze forward as he plowed ahead.
Yeo-wool, who was falling behind, flapped his fan vigorously before him. Letting out a sigh, he pushed back a lock of dark hair from his eyes. "Why the southern exit, Han? The northern entrance literally leads into the streets of the Capital. Was there some complex thought process that went into this?"
Han-sung shook his brunette head, continuing on the trodden path. "No, Hyung," he replied cheerfully, sending his elder grin, "Just enjoying the scenery and company."
"And the fact that y/n is residing in one of the southern villas has nothing to do with your choice of course?"
The youngest Hwarang tensed up slightly, almost unable to be detected by an untrained eye. However to the acute pair of Yeo-wool, this was seen as easily as a murder in broad daylight.
He huffed, throwing his head back, his speed of fanning increasing as y/n's villa came into view. "Han, you do know this is considered stalking."
"I'm not stalking her, Hyung," the younger retorted defensively, shooting his elder a glare.
Yeo-wool sighed dramatically. "Han, denial is the first sign," he tried further, catching up with his friend, "If you don't stop now, this will get seriously out of hand."The flower boy's tread slowed as he rounded the corner of the path and came into view with the poetry teacher's villa doors. They were shut tightly, allowing no visitor or student to enter within. The walls, barely above the height of Han-sung, stood as a guardian, holding it's strong stance as a protection around the lustrous decorated hut of y/n. Although rather short they were, it permitted not one flower boy to peer into the villa, assuring the teacher all her need privacy.
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